Page 3 of It Starts With A No

“I’ve known Hugh for a few years,” Tamara said nonchalantly. “He’s all bark and no bite.”

True. Clary supposed that was why Mr. E loaned Tamara to her as an assistant. Tamara had been working for Mr. E, so she knew the Eolenfelds. She knew how lazy and crazy they were. “Still, I’m sorry. I’ll speak with the security team.” Again. Another thing on her never-ending list of things to do. “Is there anything else?”

“Yeah,” Tamara said and grew silent.

“More death threats?” This Christmas was really filling Clary with everything but love, joy, and peace.

“Yeah. Nearly …” Tamara mumbled something inaudible under her breath. “Twenty-eight of them.”

Clary swallowed a sigh. She’d expected things to be rough.

During Hugh’s unscrupulous push for profits, nearly half a million fake accounts had been opened and fees unlawfully levied on EB Co.’s unsuspecting customers. Those customers were irate, and they had every right to be. Their hard-earned money stolen, credit ratings destroyed.

Unfortunately for her, taking over as EB Co.’s CEO meant inheriting the hate as well.

“I’ve put them on your desk,” her assistant said. “Are you going to report the threats to the police?”

“No.” She couldn’t. For one thing, it would be impossible for the police to investigate with the number of suspects out there. And since the threats were probably from the affected customers, she couldn’t possibly cause them more grief with a criminal charge.

“Then why are you keeping them?”

I’m going to slash up your face and chop off your hair. That was the first threat she’d read at her desk at EB Co., and it was too similar to what she’d heard before.

Back when she was still in New York.

That experience had taught her that threats didn’t always remain threats, which was why she’d chucked all the threatening letters into one of those A4 paper boxes she’d had Tamara get for her.

Clary frowned when she felt the acceleration cut off. She glanced over at the speedometer, her eyes widening as the arrow dropped steeply. “I’ve got to go.” She ended the call as she increased the pressure on the accelerator.

But the speedometer continued dropping.

“Jesus.” She released the accelerator, then immediately jammed it back down.

The accelerator still wasn’t working.

She sucked in a breath through her mouth, trying her best to suppress the panic rising within. “Not here.”

Not in the middle of the winding road up to her new temporary home. She glanced over at the touchscreen panel as it flashed a warning that her power was low. “What?”

It was fully charged this morning, and all she did was drive to work.

Then the next warning flashed: Car may shut down unexpectedly.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” She scanned around the car. “Jesus, what should I do?” She tapped on the screen, hoping for some instructions.

Nothing.

“There should be some sort of emergency red help button.” The e-brake. “Right.” Clary engaged the e-brake, and the car stopped.

Holding her breath, she peered around with as little movement as possible.

When she was sure that the car wouldn’t roll back down the slope, she sighed.

Clary tipped her head forward against the steering wheel. She should have accepted the offer of a chauffeur instead of being stubborn. “Okay.” She straightened and blew out a breath. “What’s next?” She stared at the touchscreen panel that continued to flash the warning. “You’re supposed to be a smart car.”

Should she restart the car? That solved ninety-nine percent of all electronic problems. Would it work for an electric car?

Would the car roll down the hill if she did that?

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